


You drew stars around my scars but now I’m bleeding

by elloteenah



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: 5+1 Things, Charity is a mess, Christmas Angst to add to the shitstorm that is Canon rn, F/F, Kind of Fic, Only the kiss with He Who Shall Not Be Named has happened, Vanessa hates living with the mother, and humour, but maybe with some thoughts and feelings, hopefully
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:48:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28289442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elloteenah/pseuds/elloteenah
Summary: It's the lead up to Christmas and Charity hasn't stopped crying since Vanessa left. This is five times Charity has missed Vanessa and the others around her have to pick up the pieces.
Relationships: Charity Dingle/Vanessa Woodfield
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	You drew stars around my scars but now I’m bleeding

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas, everyone! 
> 
> It's been a difficult year and I hope you're all staying safe and well and trying to make the best out of a bad situation. Just a small warning incase anyone can't stand keep reading and hearing about C-19 - it is mentioned in this fic but I haven't made it the focus. I want to focus on a little bit of humour that's come as a result of Charity being an idiot while also being me and wanting to add some feelings because I think we all, like Vanessa, hate Charity for what she's done but I still feel for her when she's a drunken mess. This was just a fun writing exercise. 
> 
> Reminder that nothing more than a kiss has happened the times these events happened. I don't want to think or wirte about the scams she's involved in right now. Also, Tracy is pregnant and looking after Johnny. Moses is with Ross and Chas is living with Charity in Jacob's Fold. 
> 
> Okay... onto the story.

* * *

_I need to know you’re okay, when I’m not._

* * *

“Noah!! Sarah!!”

“What?” Noah groaned as he came down the stairs. Sarah in tow as he roped her into dealing with his miserable mother. 

“Why can’t I see Vanessa’s profile?” Charity huffed, pushing the laptop on the coffee table away from her before she threw it across the room. 

Noah groaned again. He sat down on the sofa before he took the device from her and started scrolling the page to see if there was a problem. 

“Well, looks like she’s blocked you,” he confirmed.

“Blocked me?” 

Noah nodded sarcastically, like it was basic knowledge to him. “Yeah, so you can’t see her posts.”

“Oh, burn,” Sarah laughed behind her hand. Charity shot her a look.

“What do you mean she’s blocked me?” Charity asked, leaning over the arm of her seat to see the screen. 

Noah sighed deeply. “She’s blocked you.”

Charity shook her head. She wasn’t getting it. Still being half cut from her late night drinking didn’t help her understanding of the already foreign subject in front of her. He rolled his yes.

“Blocked. So you. Can not. See. Her. Posts,” he tried spelling it out for her.

“She doesn’t want you to see them, basically,” Sarah said.

“Oh, so she could be seeing someone else and lapping it up on Facebook at my expense?” Charity exclaimed, taking Noah and Sarah by surprise. “Well, great, guys. Thanks a lot.”

She didn’t give herself another second to think about it before she got up, her bottom lip dropping, and retrieved the half empty bottle of vodka someone had thrown away in the morning without her knowing and swinging it back.

Sarah had given up trying to wrestle the bottles from her grasp. 

“You honestly think she’d do that to you?” she shouted instead. “We’re in the middle of a global pandemic, too, incase you hadn’t noticed! She wouldn’t even think about doing that to you, regardless. Not that you care anymore.”

“No,” Charity said bluntly, shaking her head. “And you know what, Sarah? It would hurt a damn sight less than this! At least then we’d be even.”

Sarah almost felt sick from the smell of the alcohol on her gran’s breath, now her twisted way of thinking added to the nausea. She couldn’t be bothered to even argue with her; give her the satisfaction of an response. She was sick of it all. 

While they were arguing, Noah had checked his profile to see if Vanessa had blocked him. When he was able to access her statuses and photos, he figured there could only be one reason for her blocking Charity. 

“I think she’s blocked you so she doesn’t see your posts either,” he said, calmly, not to send Charity into a whirlwind. “Maybe it hurts her, too?”

Charity put the bottle down and glanced over his shoulder. “You honestly think that?” 

“Well, yeah,” he said, trying to move away from her. “It works both ways. Kinda makes sense.”

“Hmm,” Charity mused. In her hungover daze, she felt smug. Like she had just gained a point in the game she had made up in her own head. 

It meant she could be missed. She felt a sense of pride for a split second before the effects of the drink continued to affect her. 

“Maybe I should block Priya then. So I don’t have to read her lovey-dovey posts about Al.” 

She felt sick, even without the hangover. 

Charity used to hate loved-up couples until she was part of one and now she hated them again. 

“And why do you wanna see Ness’ profile?” Sarah questioned.

There was moment of silence before Charity answered. 

“To read her lovey-dovey posts on me.”

She didn’t see Noah and Sarah’s eyesroll into the backs of their heads before she broke down. 

“When she loved me. Oh, god..,” she sobbed, tears falling before she could catch them in her sleeve. 

Charity had to sit down before she fell over. Noah wanted to leave her to cry it out but he worried about what that would mean. He put a box of tissues next to her in hopes she would use one.

He just wanted his mother back. The one who was a better person since Vanessa came into their lives.

Luckily for Noah, he didn’t have to wait long as Chas walked through the door, struggling with Eve’s pram as she did so. 

“What’s all this?” Chas said once she had removed her coat. 

The floor was collecting a small mountain of tissues around Charity who hadn’t stopped being a heartbroken mess. 

“She’s crying over Vanessa again but we need to get back to school now, so…,” Sarah said quickly, pushing Noah towards the door.

“Sorry,” Noah apologised, shrugging his shoulders.

“Oh, great,” Chas exclaimed with her hands on her hips. “Just what I want when I’ve just got one screaming baby off to sleep.”

If only Charity could see how Sarah and Noah were numbing themselves to her pain, maybe she would hear their broken cries in the night, wishing that the break up had never happened. 

Vanessa hadn’t posted on Facebook since they split but that didn’t mean Sarah didn’t check it every five minutes to see if she was okay. Just something to prove to her Charity wasn’t alone in her pain. 

She was too afraid to message her privately incase she got funny with her. She knew Vanessa didn’t have it in her but she wanted to be sure in it, if she really did need to call her in an emergency. Noah agreed.

* * *

_Your friends hate me and so do I._

* * *

Rhona had just settled down in front of the television again after a long, difficult day at work, a second glass of red in her hand and blanket at her feet when she was startled by a loud banging at her door. She threw it off her before heading to the door with caution.

She never expected to see Charity, three sheets to the wind, holding onto the frame to keep herself upright with cheeks stained of mascara.

“Do you think she still loves me?” Charity frowned the second she registered Rhona was there.

“Christ, Charity. What time is it?” Rhona said, looking down at her watch. Not late but late enough that she had planned a relaxing night since she was child-free and not expected to be disturbed.

“So? What do you think?” Charity questioned, swallowing down the lump in her throat. “Have you spoken to her?”

“Charity,” Rhona sighed, rubbing her face. “Go home, please. Now isn’t the time.”

She tried to close the door, enough to protect herself in case the unstable blonde in front of her did something predictable in her current state but Charity pushed against the wood before she had the chance. 

“Please,” Charity pleaded. She glanced down to see the wine in Rhona’s hand, she sighed deeply. “Are you going to drink that?”

“Charity!” Rhona shrieked, suddenly lifting the glass above her shoulder before Charity’s prying hands could grasp it for herself. The sharpness of her lightening fast reaction caused the contents of the stemware to spill over her jumper. 

Rhona groaned, pulling the now empty glass on the floor before she shook the left arm of her jumper. She knew it was useless and had no choice but to remove it, grateful she had put a shirt on underneath.

“Now look what you’ve done!” she complained. 

If Charity wasn’t already out of tears for the day, she felt her eyes well up. 

She couldn’t do anything right. She thought, with clouded judgement, she was doing the right thing. She needed to hear someone else’s opinion. Someone who wasn’t family but someone who knew Vanessa as well as she did. 

Now all she could think about was how Rhona was most likely going to tell Vanessa how much of a useless mess she was. How she wasn’t coping with her fiancee’s absence and had now witnessed it first hand. 

She was probably going to need to give Rhona the money for the jumper but she wasn’t sure she even had the cash for that. She was throwing her paycheques away on booze, shoes she didn’t need and on bribes to keep Noah and Sarah sweet—or so she thought. 

Charity broke down into her hands, sobbing hard that she struggled to catch her breath.

“I’m a mess, Rhona,” she cried. “Have you ever needed someone so badly, your heart actually hurts to think about them?”

“Charity, I don’t—“

“There you are!” 

Rhona was cut off by an angry Chas marching up to her doorstep, her heels adding noise to the already quiet village. 

“Get back home _now_!” Chas demanded, grabbing on to the labels of Charity’s jumper and practically dragging her away from the door. “I am so sorry, Rhona. I’ve been out looking everywhere for her.” 

Charity tried to wave goodbye at Rhona as she was pulled down the stairs of the cottage, mindful of her own two feet. 

Chas had been tracking her down every night of the week so far. Already she had questioned if Charity was born stupid or just incapable of handling her emotions.

Rhona would be lying though if she didn’t say Charity’s behaviour was worrying her. She had seen her heartbroken over Vanessa but not like this. She wanted to contact Vanessa over it but it wasn’t her place so instead she voiced her concerns to Paddy who had had enough of it from Chas. She felt helpless but also mad Charity had to ruin something great.

* * *

_I drink to forget everything reminds me of you but it doesn’t work so I drink to forget by morning._

* * *

“I had a girl once, you know,” Charity smiled, her eyes welling up with tears.

Tracy had been so excited about the news. She wanted to tell her father first, tell him she was going to install his love and courage in her own daughter but she knew she couldn’t so she broke down to sister even as they celebrated the some-to-be new addition. A little girl, just as she had dreamed about when she was child.

She didn’t let Vanessa know she was going to tell Charity the happy news because she didn’t want to upset her sister by mentioning her name but she hoped by telling the taller blonde would remind her there is happiness amongst the storm. 

She was greeted at the door by the sight that hadn’t become a stranger since Vanessa left. Charity, hair in a mess, a hoodie falling off one shoulder, mascara running down her cheeks and legs barely carrying her. 

She knew she couldn't come too close to her because of the stupid virus but if she could, she would have sat the taller blonde down first and gotten her a glass a water, in hopes it would sober her up enough to speak sense. 

Charity seemed happy enough for Tracy in-between her sadness and half-empty glass. She at least said congratulations before her eyes clouded over.

“Yeah, Debbie,” Tracy grinned back. “I was hoping to get some advice actually.”

“No, Vanessa.”

Tracy always found Charity unpredictable but she never saw that coming. She felt taken back and she needed a moment to understand how Charity had managed to make her announcement about herself.

“And I threw it away!” Charity raised her voice, laughing. “Hey, you tell that baby of yours not to be like me. Don’t meet people. Don’t fall in love. Don’t kiss random strangers—“

“Don’t get drunk?” Tracy sat back, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Oh, no, no. That’s about the one thing I’m good at. No. Tell her.. don’t… don’t do stupid things. Do—“ Charity questioned her own thoughts for a second, “yes—do. Do listen to your mother. I mean, not my mum, she was hardly there but a good mum. Mums like Vanessa’s who tell me I’m nothing but a waste of space and no good for their daughter.”

“Okay, Charity, thank you for ruining it,” Tracy scoffed. Charity fell into the doorframe and Tracy stepped back incase she fell into her. 

It actually broke her heart to see Charity in such a state over a break up. It reminded her of being a teenager when she cry over the boy who didn’t even like her and had the guts to tell her to her face, but she had built it up in her head they would have a fairytale romance and he just didn’t realise it yet because he was too busy trying to impress his friends. Only as an adult she saw how ridiculous she was.

But Tracy wasn’t standing in front of a broken juvenile because of an unrequited puppy love. Charity had lost the love of her life because of a stupid impulse to constantly need somebody to want her and mistaking mockery for flattery.

She was genuinely concerned. 

“I think you need to go and have a lie down.”

“See. That’s, already, why you’re going to be a good mum. That baby is so lucky to have you. Johnny is lucky to have you,” Charity sniffed back her tears. She tried to put her arms around Tracy who moved away from her. She nodded, realising. “Will you tell him I miss him, yeah? And I will get better. And tell him I miss Vanessa, too, please? Tell him I think about her and I miss her cooking and, and I miss our movie nights and I miss her putting him before me.”

“Okay,” Tracy narrowed her eyes. “I’m going to call Chas to come and put you to bed because you’re freaking me out.”

“No, Tracy, I don’t want to be in that bed without her,” Charity frowned. “I sleep down here every night, ask the kids!”

“Is it because you can’t make it up the stairs?” Tracy asked bluntly. 

“No!” Charity shouted, shaking her head defensively. “No! Your sister does things in bed that—“

“ _Charity_!” Tracy screamed, waving her hands in front of the taller blonde’s face to stop her from finishing her sentence. “I don’t need to hear about your bedroom antics. Pregnancy is making me sick enough as it is.”

Charity wanted to tell Tracy how her sister helped her overcome her night terrors because she would rub her back and comb her fingers through her hair until she fell asleep, because that’s kind of caring person she was. Too good for her, as everyone kept reminding her.

Tracy’s phone buzzed in her hand, she glanced at the screen before putting it back in her pocket.

“Chas is on her way,” Tracy confirmed. “Try drinking some water, yeah? I’ve got to go.”

She barely got out the door before she broke down in tears. Leaning back against the walls of Jacob’s Fold, she wanted to blame the pregnancy hormones but she knew there was more to it.

Her heart felt for her sister, the love she shared with Charity was gone and not only because of the latter’s stupid actions but hers, Tracy’s, too. She asked herself every night if she did the right thing spying on her future sister-in-law like that. She wished she never took that stupid photo while the other side of her was still so angry that Charity would throw everything good in her life away for some meaningless good because there was still part inside her that allowed herself to be controlled by the false charms of men who will care for her the way Vanessa did. 

If Tracy could take it back, she would. She, like most in the village, looked at Charity and Vanessa’s love as something to aspire to. No amount of christmas miracle was going to bring them back. 

What Charity didn’t know was Vanessa called her up sometimes, sobbing down the phone asking if she’s the one who made a mistake and that living with her Mother was hell every time she mentioned Charity. 

Vanessa was hurting, too. Both for different reasons, both justified. 

Tracy knew they had the ability to get back together one day but she wasn’t the person who could make it happen.

* * *

_You’ve got a hold on me, please don’t let go_

* * *

Amongst the breakdown of her own relationship, caring for Eve alone and keeping her own mental health in check, making sure her selfish cousin didn’t drink herself into a coma, shouldn’t have been at the top of Chas’ list of priorities but here she was, after getting a teething baby off to sleep; keeping a close eye on Charity get frustrated at the ten o’clock news, cuddled up to a bottle of Vodka. 

“Look, I get it, yeah? I totally think we should clap our NHS staff, our care workers and all that but what about our vets?” Charity slurred, throwing her arms up to address her opinion. “They’re life savers, too!”

Chas narrowed her eyes. “I don’t think now is the right time, Charity,” 

“No, no,” Charity protested, pointing the glass container at her. “I have seen Vanessa, right, _sobbing_ , because she’s had to put down a baby horse or something after it’s landed on it’s head and not breathing. She’s so selfless, she waited until she got home to cry— _home—_ ” Charity’s breath caught in her throat—“home. That’s here with me.” 

She broke down, her voice cracking as she took a swing from the nearly empty bottle in her hand. Throwing it away into the side of the sofa when she realised she had already drank its contents before breaking down into her hands. Chas had watched in disbelief.

“It’s foal.”

Charity’s head shot up. She peered out the side of her fingers. “What did you just say to me?”

“A foal, dear,” Chas reassured her. “A baby horse is called a foal.”

“Oh, right,” Charity nodded slowly then wiped her wet nose with the back of her sleeve. Chas shook her head in disgust. “Thought you were saying something about me then.”

“Well,” Chas said, tilting her head. “If the shoe fits. Ha, see what I did there?” 

“Oi!” Charity threw a cushion in her direction. “If you don't want to help me, you can leave.”

Chas rolled her eyes and pushed herself up from the armchair. It was late; she was off to bed. She squeezed Charity’s shoulder on the way before she collected the bottle that needed binning and then took herself upstairs without a goodnight.

“Everyone does in the end.” 

As much as Chas tried to settle down with a book, she couldn’t sleep nowadays unless she knew Charity was and could hear her snoring from the living room. 

When they lived in the pub, she hated how loud the barmaid was when she was unconscious. Not that she would ever tell Charity to her face. She liked having teeth. She had to warn Paddy when he moved in with her, and then when Charity and Vanessa started getting serious, she had to pull the vet to on side before she went to work to prepare her to never tell Charity she was a snorer if she wanted the relationship to last and they laughed about it for weeks that it became an inside joke between the pair of them. 

Now Chas had never felt more grateful to hear the rough hoarse noise in the early hours of the morning, even if she does peek her head around from the top of the stairs to make sure she isn’t on her back, and makes sure she’s covered with a blanket. Chas does the same if she does hear the creek in the stairs—on the odd occasion she is sober enough to climb them—she remembers to put a sick bowl down beside her in case the worse happens.

Chas understood Vanessa’s reasons for wanting to ignore Charity completely but sometimes she wished she would pick up the phone and make sure Charity was okay or tell her she won’t be gone forever and they can find a way to be together again so her cousin would go back to the woman she was when she was with Vanessa: a better one. 

* * *

_Baby, please come home._

* * *

“Are you seriously making her a Christmas card? By hand, might I add,” Chas sighed as put her head in her hands and rubbed her forehead. “How old are you again?”

Charity ignored her, engrossed in her creation. 

Admittedly, today had been the first day Chas hadn’t seen Charity reach for the bottle. She had just about had enough of Charity’s tantrums.

She had woken up, eyes blood shot and all but she had actually showered. Her shorter locks tied in a low ponytail and her favourite cashmere cardigan actually smelt like it had been washed for a change. Maybe Christmas was about to give Charity a reason to get better. Maybe even start the new year afresh. Chas knew in her heart that Vanessa would come back eventually, she couldn’t stay away from Johnny for too long and she would want to see Tracy’s newborn. It was just a matter of when, and then Chas would need to start planning on how to get Vanessa to forgive Charity. 

It was a great relief that when she came home from her shift at the pub, Charity was actually doing something productive, no matter how childish it was. 

“Well, I can always say Moses made it,” Charity said, carefully pressing down on the heart she had just cut out and glued down onto the back of the card. She smiled when it look straight. 

“Oh, no, dear. You’re way too much a perfectionist,” Chas waved her finger, coming up behind Charity to get a closer look at her work. “That doesn’t look like the efforts of a five year old.”

“Shut up,” Charity muttered. 

She was proud of what she had made. She wanted to show Vanessa she was good at something. She was hoping that by using things from Moses’ arts and crafts box to make a Christmas card would prove to Vanessa that she didn’t just go into David’s and brought the first card she saw. Of course she was going to get Moses’ to make one, too, for Vanessa but Charity knew if she saw that she had handmade one, too, that it would make her smile that they could have done it, together—Charity sitting down and dedicating time to do something with her children. That was important to Charity now because it’s the kind of person Vanessa had made her into and she wanted her girlfriend to see that.

If Vanessa would even still call them that. Charity had accepted the engagement was over but a small part of her hoped Vanessa didn’t think of her as a complete stranger nowadays. 

_No_ , she tried to push the thought to the back of her mind. She had to focus. 

“Well, I must say, it is very Vanessa,” Chas commented. “You’ve done well there.”

Charity looked closely at what she had done so far. Vanessa’s name spelt out in stars, she had drawn rainbowsand hearts on the tree instead of baubles and cut out a banner to go along beneath it that said “Make The Yuletide Gay” because she knew it would make her smile and it was complete as she wrote “Made With Love’’ into the heart from earlier. 

Now she was looking at it differently. Maybe she was stupid to think it was a good idea. Like Chas said, she was middle-aged woman for Christ sake. No amount of print-stick glue on expensive card she had brought especially was going to save their relationship. 

“It’s what she is though, isn’t it, babe?” Charity asked Chas, throwing the card down on the table. “Hearts and stars and rainbows and Christmas…,” she sighed. “And all I am is just the Scrooge with the knife, the clouds and the rain that ruins it.” 

The tears began to sting. She couldn’t bare to think about it and what she would do next. She apologised to Chas before picking up the card and throwing it in the bin. She ran up the stairs before Chas could see the upset fall from her eyes. 

Once Charity was out of sight, Chas picked the card out from the rubbish; grateful she didn’t crease it up into a ball so it was still perfectly intact. She found the envelope Charity had already written out with Vanessa’s Mother’s address on it and put it in her coat, a reminder to post it in the morning.

She was sure Charity would have forgot about it by then. 

* * *

_If there was a way, I’d hold back these tears._

* * *

It didn’t register with her initially when she was sieving through post first thing but she would recognise the way Charity crossed her T’s and didn’t dot her I’s any day and it soon clicked.

Charity had sent her a Christmas card. A lump formed by she swallowed it down before she sorted through the pile and took the only one addressed rightfully to herself upstairs to open, away from prying eyes.

Vanessa couldn’t believe she had sent her a card. She was almost too scared to open it. She stared at the pile she had written for Charity and the kids but didn’t have the heart to post. More than anything she didn’t want to think about Moses’ reaction when Charity would have to explain why she still wasn’t coming home, if Ross hadn’t already claimed him for the festive period.

She didn’t want to think of Charity as a bad Mother because she wasn’t but she couldn’t help herself thinking Charity had probably encouraged Ross to have him so it was one less thing Charity had to worry about.

She wanted to message Noah and Sarah multiple times to see how they were but she didn’t want to start something she couldn’t finish. The less she thought about home, the bigger. She had to convince herself if anything was going horrifically, one of them would be on the phone within an instant because she would always answer them. 

She tore the envelope open before she could convince herself otherwise and the second she saw it was homemade, she burst into tears. 

Moses had gone to the effort to make her something, she thought. He was growing up just like Johnny, quickly—not helped by months of isolation. Moses being older meant he was always ahead of Johnny anyway but it was only now looking closely, he was miles ahead of her son.

Everything was a little bit too perfect. She could look past her name spelt out in stars, she knew Charity would have had had to help him but the christmas tree drawn was too straight to be done by a child, the decorations chosen were too even for a five-year-old. Then she got the slogan and that’s when it clicked. 

She had to open the craft and there she felt the tears fall onto the card. 

She was greeted with paragraphs of what Charity loved about her. No forced apologises or mentions of her mistakes, purely both sides filled reasons they worked. 

She wanted things to be better but she still needed time to heal. To understand why Charity did it. She didn’t want to be the one to fix it, Charity had to fix it herself. 

Maybe the card was start but it wasn’t enough to speak to her face to face. It would still hurt too much, she needed proof around her that Charity was better and while Tracy was feeding her information about her love struggling, she couldn’t do it. 

She didn’t want to go back to a mess, she wanted to return to a reformed woman and they could wipe the slate clean.

If it meant staying with her Mother who reminded her everyday why it was never going to work out then so be it. 

Regardless the tears she cried over the situation. 


End file.
